Quite a few times in my life when I have approached the top of a long drop, I have had the urge to throw myself out into space. I probably have had this impulse for a long time.
I imagine it might have surfaced along with my desire to be Batman when I was but a lad. Yes, you and I know that Batman can’t actually fly, but he always seemed to be able to fall a long way without being harmed. I figured it must be the cape. So, I donned my hat with flaps and pinned a towel around my neck. I climbed up the wooden fence and onto the roof over the carport. From there along the ridges to the very highest peak of the house. Stood there and leaped out to fall about 25 feet. Didn’t die because my leap outward was interrupted by impact with the tall pine that grew right next to the house. I don’t remember now whether that was a conscious decision or not. Slid down with minor damage to my jacket. Did not try this again. I think even then I knew I had gotten lucky.
But even now, when I stop the car along the Foothills Parkway I still feel the pull.
I get out and just stare out into the air to see the mountains and hear the wind blowing.
I don’t really want to fall; Instead I wish I could just fly.